The Colors of Blood
by dropout-ninja
Summary: Arcee and Jack Darby get some time off together and bond over the discussion of fashion and paints but the 'most stylish' of Cybertronians can't help but add his continuous stream of opinions


_Warnings: Spoilers from TFP season 3. Mentions of blood and death but nothing graphic is stated._

_Set in the same verse as Xenotropics but can be read as a standalone._

_The POV is from Jack's standpoint and that's why it uses terminology like 'eyes' instead of 'optics'_

* * *

They used to have all the time in the world. Now they were lucky to get a day once a month. Between all the energy using the space bridge required, the busy schedule of Jack balancing school and work for Fowler, and Arcee's many, many assignments on Cybertron, the two partners didn't get the chance to talk just by meeting in his garage.

But being busy made time fly. It didn't take long for it to be that time of the month again.

Jack was nearly bouncing on the balls of his feet as he waited. From somewhere behind him someone snuck up and wrapped him into a hug.

"Wh-Mom!" the teen protested, turned his head as best he could in the position to confirm who had grabbed him.

"You forgot a few things," she stared him down in her trademark mother expression. She held out his old dirty helmet for him but melted into a smile instead of gesturing him to take it right away.

"You can't just run off without saying goodbye," June said. Even as a senior in high school that worked for the government, Jack still felt himself getting embarrassed.

"I'll give a talking to to Arcee if you keep this behavior up," his mom warned him jokingly after her son had grudgingly given her another hug, "Just because my boy has a girl to leave me for doesn't mean he gets to leave me without a goodbye."

"Why do you make things weird," Jack protested with a grimace as he made for the door into the garage he hoped to meet with Arcee at. The base in Nevada was more spread out than the old bunker had been and more developed than it had started as when it was only an emergency set-up after Darkmount II.

"You wear a helmet," June was following him out the door, "Give Arcee the wheel if things stop being safe-"

"o-okay, Mom, please," her son laughed awkwardly, waving his hands at her.

"Just be safe," she demanded, "Don't be too late for dinner. It'll be lonely if it's just Bill, Ratchet and I. We're expecting a full party tonight."

Shadows fell over the two humans. It was a sign of how changed their lives were from normal humans that both Darby's just turned around casually to see the behemoths behind them.

"Hey partner."

"Arcee!" he grinned upwards.

Shorter than many cybertronians, Arcee smiled down at her adopted human family while her hands stayed planted on her hips. The confident pose was a welcome sight for Jack, who let himself grin widely up at his friend. The shiny red mech behind her was less expected.

"Sorry for the tag along," Arcee dropped to one knee to speak with him, "But we're stuck with him all day. Ratch's busy and needs KO out of his plating."

In truth, Jack was too excited for a day out with the cycle to care all that much for their third wheel; although those red eyes gave him the creeps still, he'd suck it up for the fun he wanted to have today.

"You have fun," June ordered, hugging her son one last time and pulling back to give him a faux serious glance. "Stay out of trouble, all of you."

"Will do," the blue femme saluted before standing once more.

"Good to see you Arcee," the human woman smiled, "Have fun out there." She nodded at the femme and then at the mech beside her. "Knock Out."

"June," he purred. Jack pretended to gag, making sure only Arcee could see. The ex-con was far too casual around them all for Jack's tastes; too be fair, he had avoided having to see much of him during the visits.

Both cybertronians backed up a few steps and then folded in on themselves until only a familiar motorcycle and an Aston Martin remained.

In a fashion so familiar but so sadly limited these days, Jack moved to the bike and slid onto its leather seat. He allowed himself a moment to just breath and enjoy the harmony; then Arcee was revving up and started out from the base.

"Don't speed!"

Jack shook his head and smiled exasperatedly under his helmet at his mom's cry. Still, Arcee slowed her speed down while they moved through the human settlements. Then she revved away across the dirt and the feeling of nostalgia sunk over both. The only non-nostalgic part was the sounds of the sports car that was staying just a few feet in front of them at all times. Competitive to a fault.

The base fell behind view and the two vehicles climbed further and further up an off-road until it evened out onto a plateau. Dust flew, coating Jack's pants and sliding down his shoes, as Arcee skidded to a stop. The day was still early and the sun was brightly illuminating Nevada below.

Jack stepped off to give her a moment. Behind him he heard the familiar sounds of transforming. For a few minutes all three gazed across the dry landscape that was so different from the metallic surfaces of Cybertron. Then the moment passed and they were ready to move on.

"Let's roll," Arcee's said as she looked out over the desert expanse, "Apparently I'm stuck on babysitting duty all day today so there's no point in sticking around near the base."

"Please," Knock Out drew out the word even as he collapsed into a car once more, "No need to berate the little squishy."

"I wasn't referring to my partner," Arcee winked down at Jack. He smiled back, ignoring the fear that ex-con's grumbled still elicited.

They roared along the quiet roads away from the government joint-planet fortress. Nevada never looked better than it did on Arcee's back; flat desert, rocky plateaus, dry trees- all blurring past while the wind whipped through his clothing. He only wished he still had longer hair that could be strained backwards in the air if he took the helmet off. But the pane of the helmet allowed him to keep his eyes open and enjoy the sights.

A little after noon it was time for a lunch break; for the human at least. Sitting by a creek under the pines and giant aliens, Jack opened his packed food and started a conversation as he chewed. His mom wasn't around to tell him not to talk with his mouth full and he didn't get to see Arcee enough to waste any second of her vacation day.

Somehow the conversation fell to prom. Of all things. But then Arcee did like to keep up with what was happening in his life and that included school still.

And somehow prom turned into a very different sort of conversation that Jack hadn't really thought much of before.

It started with Miko. The girl had been whining about what to wear and Jack had shared those complaints to Arcee (and Knock Out) as he talked.

"She can't decide on black or something wild. I mean, both work for her but why try to get me to help?" Jack had laughed, "I've got Agent Fowler helping me buy a suit and tie and that's as exciting as my cloth options get."

"Don't expect me to help," Arcee responded, "I do one set of colors and nothing else."

And then, making him jump much to his embarrassment, Knock Out's voice interjected into the gossip smoothly.

"Too true. And here I keep offering you a top of the line makeover for a teammate bargain price."

Jack recovered quickly and adjusted to the new topic.

"It's hopeless," the human said, "I've tried before too. When Bee and Smokey got their new paint jobs I tried to pitch one to her and got shot down fast." They had even hoped to do a detailing session today originally but the third wheel tag along had stopped Jack from reminding Arcee about that plan and to enjoy the extra long drive instead; no matter what washing and touch ups of paint they both did for her, Arcee never changed her style up.

"You were pitching pink to me," Arcee spoke up dryly, sliding back into the conversation instead of being referred to by both her companions.

Despite the fact that Arcee had pink highlights already, the image of her covered in the color did seem rather wrong to the imagination.

"Not ferocious enough, I gather," the doctor proclaimed after Jack had stopped chuckling. This earned the human's confusion.

"What do you mean?"

"Arcee's paint may as well have been some sort of fear factor in the war," Knock Out dismissed with a wave, "Her primary shade is the color of stale energon."

And then began the conversation on colors Jack had never really considered before.

"So you're like the color of blood?" he turned up to his partner. She rolled her eyes.

"It's not a bright enough shade to be the same color as energon," Arcee said. Bending even further beneath the trees until he was closer than necessary, Knock Out faux-whispered to the human, "Because it's long dead energon."

"Oh."

Jack's reply was very logical.

After a moment, he hummed thoughtfully.

"You know, you're the color of blood too. Human blood is red."

"I know that," Knock Out replied quickly and once again Jack felt that spark of anxiety at the close proximity; he did _not_ want to know how the "doc" knew that.

"So you're blood," he pointed at the car, "and you're blood," his finger moved to his friend. "That's definitely a frightening combo."

"Not blood, energon-" the femme corrected, "KO is right that it was a fear factor during the war, but I just so happen to like blue."

"And blue likes you," Jack was quick to reassure. He bit into his sandwich again. As he ate, Knock Out sat back and tapped his chin with a claw.

"Hmm. You know who else had that frightening combo?" the mech muttered aloud.

Still chewing, Jack gave no reply even as his mind immediately shot to the memory of a cybertronian with blue and red paint that had never looked frightening on him and never would; his wisdom and soft voice kept his huge stature and bloody paint job from scaring even tiny Raf.

"Who?" Arcee humored halfheartedly.

"Optimus," Jack answered for the ex-con. Somber silence fell on the trio. It was a bit surprising. Jack had thought that the defector would poke at the Prime's expense but the red figure stayed quiet. Arcee looked away through the forest before cracking a small grin.

"Yeah. Yeah he was. I don't think he'd ever mean it as a fear tactic though. More of...I don't know, a sign that he was fighting for the lives of both?"

"Very poetic," Knock Out supported.

"I think we're reaching," Jack said. He tossed the plastic wrapper into his backpack again.

They went quiet again.

"Wait. So if blue is supposed to be like wearing red war paint, for humans I mean, than what about some of the other colors? The con warship was mainly purple but its high ups were gray. What's all that mean?"

"Tantalizing questions," the doctor purred and Jack didn't like it any more when it was directed towards him as when it had been towards his mom, "Purple is the color of Unicron the Destroyer. It has always held a bit of fear in every cybertronians hearts. In fact, the amount of Vehicons that come in to get a new color is quite unsurprising-"

"Is he-like a cosmetologist or something?" Jack looked up into Arcee's face to ask. There was a seconds pause that likely meant his partner was checking the internet before she laughed.

"That's an accurate assumption," the femme supplied his imagination of what went on behind the space bridge on the rebuilding planet. Red eyes narrowed and Knock Out turned aside with a huff. Somewhere in Jack's mind, the thought of a detailing session even with the ex-con third wheeling didn't sound so bad; in fact, the shiny mech could possibly be a help to the two hopeless-in-fashion partners.

"Back to your question, gray is- gray is one of the worst colors we could use unless it's matched with a different shade. When we die, we gray. It's not immediate but almost every offline cybertronian fades into gray with time," Arcee explained.

Jack knew enough history to know that in wartimes, appearances differed for armies and positions. Wearing masks and paint and identical uniforms not only deindividuated the enemy and made soldiers feel like part of a combined entity, but styles and colors played a role in scare tactics and team building as well.

His friend, the fiery little two wheeler, ran around a battlefield for centuries wearing the colors of her enemy's blood. Their leader was a yin yang of his biological kind's energon and his adopted kind's blood. Intentional or not, Arcee was right when she said he had been fighting for both their species lives and that his colors showed it. And his almost life long enemy went around parading as a corpse.

When you were a robot that chose what paint to wear, there was more symbolism in thought than Jack had first imagined.

* * *

_AN- __Arcee is pink in almost every other incarnation she has. The fun fact is that in those series, for instance animated or IDW, energon is pink. In Prime where energon had changed colors to blue, Arcee was also now blue. Whatever world she's in, Arcee likes to be painted the color of her and her enemies blood._ _Feel free to point out any spelling/grammar error so I can fix it :)_

_Thank you for your time! Please leave a review :D_


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